


Wallbanger

by matrixrefugee



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: Gen, mild cussing in German
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 03:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17614151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matrixrefugee/pseuds/matrixrefugee
Summary: Gretel has a thing or two to share with some faery tale collectors...





	Wallbanger

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](https://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/profile)[fic_promptly](https://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/)'s [Hansel and Gretel : Witch Hunters, Hansel, reading the fairy tale of their childhood, "Do they have any idea about what that was really like?"](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/224987.html?thread=9203675#cmt9203675). Warning: Cussin' in German. I seem to have remembered that much from my college German class. _Au._

"Who even writes this _Scheisse_?" Gretel snarled, glaring at the pages of the book like she could kill it if she glared at it hard enough.

Hansel looked up from cleaning his shotgun, the parts laid out on a sheet of leather rolled out on the bed of their room in the attic of the inn, the latest in a string of rooms at inns in a string of towns that had hired them for their services. He cocked his head, peering at the spine of the book. "Two fellows named Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm," he said.

"Yes. I saw the names on the cover," she snapped, slamming the book shut and looking about the room, clearly ready to throw the book into the nearest wall. "I'm just wondering who put a spell on them to make them such terrible writers."

"I don't think people need to be enchanted to write badly," Hansel replied, getting up to take a now whistling tea kettle off the hob and to find a metal pipkin on the mantel shelf.

"I'd like to think it happened that way, because then they'd be less at fault," she said, flapping the book open. "I mean listen to this: 'Then a gentle voice called out from inside:

Nibble, nibble, little mouse,  
Who is nibbling at my house?

The children answered: The wind, the wind,  
The heavenly child.' Who the _Holle_ even talks like that, let alone us?! We never said anything like that when the witch found us gnawing on her rooftiles, we were too hungry."

"The line from the witch almost sounds like a spell, but she didn't have to cast one to lure us in," Hansel said, holding the gun barrel over the pipkin and pouring the hot water down the inside, till it stopped running black with powder.

"So what who told them they could fill the story with a lot of _verdammt_ lies? Do they have any idea what we went through?!" Gretel snapped, hurling the book at the wall. The book ricocheted and bounced off a dresser before hitting the bare floorboards.

"They probably copied down the stories they were told about us," Hansel said, taking the pot of dirty water and taking it to the window to dump it out into the street below. "You know how the stories got exaggerated and added to."

"Yeah, making us out to be bigger and badder than we are," Gretel said. "So why couldn't these _Scheisskopfen_ tell *those* stories, not this mealy-mouthed crap."

Hansel shrugged vastly. "Artistic license?"

"That's one artistic license that the burgomeister needs to revoke."


End file.
